


The Setting Sun

by darlingsdevil



Category: Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Angst, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, F/M, Female Reader, RDR2, red dead redemption 2 - Freeform, verbally abusive relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:55:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23375008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingsdevil/pseuds/darlingsdevil
Summary: Your marriage with Arthur Morgan isn’t going too smoothly.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 84





	The Setting Sun

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a two part fic.

You had heard the whispers around camp as your marriage fell apart. The women slyly mumbled about your fighting, and how they were sure you didn’t sleep in the same bed as him anymore. The men were more open about their observations and their rumors, especially Micah who nearly begged you to take his hand in marriage the second you called it quits with Arthur. Both the men and the women grumbling in the morning when your fighting seeped into the late hours of the night. But it wasn’t either of their talk that drove you mad, it was the disapproving look from Dutch. He looked at you like you had failed his son, which you had. 

You were hot headed and Arthur was spiraling down a path of rage. The way he looked at you these days were cold, filled with anger, even when you weren’t fighting. Arthur looked sick at even the sight of you, like you were a monster in his bed. Arthur was met with cold glares and disapproving eyes when not fighting. 

It was awful, nearly every night tears fell from your eyes when you decided to cool off by the river while Arthur got to sleep in his tent, scribbling away at that stupid journal. Your face hot, voice scratchy from screaming. 

Hosea had asked you once if you would like to leave for a month or two and come back, once the dust had settled between you two, and your marriage could be repaired from the little threads that were still holding it together. You decided if it became that bad, you would, but you wouldn’t let Arthur run you out of your home that easily. Perhaps it had gotten ‘too bad’ too long ago. You had been in the gang nearly just as long as he had been and you grew up together. 

Arthur hated fighting with you, he could tell your jabs at each other were pent up emotions from long ago. But when things got firey, and the truth was spewed from eachother, you felt the riff grow larger and larger between you. You didn’t like fighting, neither did he, but something in your blood got hot and your eyes blinded by rage, the moment your husband said anything. He was the same, like everything he said would come out ten times worse than he meant it, like he couldn’t control himself from letting every mean thing he thought of, come from his mouth. Every jab, every screaming match, every fight tore you from him. 

You tried your best to remember every good moment with him, how he used to make you feel. How you felt when he would catch you staring or the first time he kissed you, blushing faces and shy glances. But the worst moments with him stuck in your mind even when you weren’t upset with him. It felt like the bad was outweighing the good. Bad memories clouding your mind, covering the good ones. 

Arthur left for jobs more frequently, taking the longest ones so he wouldn’t have to see you. Arthur was so sick of fighting, he had to get away. 

Apologies were never frequent. He rarely ever slept besides you, that had long since been out of the question. You were like a stranger in his bed, nothing more than a common whore he could use whenever he wanted, nothing like the sweet Arthur who would be so gentle with you, slow touches like he was afraid that you would break. 

Your marriage was falling apart, and you were both the culprits. You barely felt anything for him besides anger, your pride refusing to allow yourself to miss him. But deep down, your heart ached every time you let him walk away, let him turn his back on you. Where did it all go wrong? 

It started with simple bickering, turned into infrequent fights, and then arguments that left you sobbing and dizzy, his words repeating in your brain, over and over until that’s all you could think about. 

One afternoon, when Arthur had been gone for days, you found a letter in Arthur’s trunk. You were looking for an old skirt to make into a blanket, the Heartlands air was unforgiving at night and without Arthur’s body heat next to you, you were frozen. 

You noticed how the envelope was already opened, gingerly, not with a letter opener or even torn. You weren’t going to look inside, you weren’t that nosy, but the name on the outside left you pondering. 

_ Mary Linton _

Judging by how carefully Arthur had opened the letter, the letter stuck out to you. Something wasn’t right. While Arthur’s absence was not uncommon, you were perplexed by the name. Why did it stand out? 

Until it finally hit you, your heart dropped to your stomach. You felt sick. Mary Linton was Mary Gillis, Arthur’s ex fiancé. He had convinced you years ago she was nothing to worry about. You were about to examine the contents when you felt someone behind you. 

Arthur snatched the letter from your hands, glaring at you. His eyes shot daggers right through you. 

“What the fuck is that, Arthur?” You asked accusingly. 

“It’s none of your goddamn business,” Arthur growled in response. He held the letter behind him, guarding it like it was something precious. 

“Why did that whore send you a letter?” You couldn’t control the words coming out of your mouth. Anger rose in you at the disrespect. 

“Don’t look through my things again,” Arthur turned away, ready to walk off. 

“Nope. You don’t get to walk away, tell me what that woman wants from you,” You yelled at him, Arthur swiveled around, his entire face enraged.

“What the hell are accusing me of?” 

“I don’t know. What’s it sound like?” You spat back at him, crossing your arms in a defiant stance. 

“You’re accusing me of cheating on you?” Arthur scoffed. 

“I’m sure you’ve done a hell of a lot worse while you were with me,” You shot back. It was verbal war, and you were both stuck in the crossfire. 

“Shut your mouth, woman. You’re walking on thin ice,” Arthur said in a low voice, inching closer to you. 

“I might as well dance then. Don’t tell me to shut my fucking mouth, tell that slut to shut her fucking legs.” 

Arthur’s nose twitched, he didn’t care about holding back. He would already regret saying something bad. 

“You really think I’m banging Mary?” 

You were silent, glaring at him. You looked at him like he was the most vile thing on the planet. 

“Well then you’re dumber than I expected. Maybe if you had snooped around my stuff before I got back you would have been able to read it,” Arthur held the letter, waving it in front of you. 

“I fucking hate you,” Your voice rose, anger building up in you like it was the only thing you could ever feel again. 

Arthur nodded, turning away from you, “Like I don’t already know that.”  


Hot tears began trailing down your face, as you covered your mouth. You didn’t mean to say that. Your heart beat rushed in your ears. Everything felt awful, Arthur started walking away from you. 

“Don’t walk away, you smug bastard!” Your voice cracked, like you were begging him to turn around and tell you everything was alright. You felt your knees almost give out, everything felt dizzy as the blood rushed to your head. Your chest heaved with sobs, your legs giving out as you fell to the ground with a thud. 

Arthur continued walking away, he couldn’t handle the shouting, he couldn’t handle the pain. It was suffocating. He held his chin high, as he felt the ground underneath him. Arthur’s emotions were bubbling underneath him, he so desperately wanted to turn around and ask to stop the fighting, the pain, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t let himself. 

“I never want to see you ever again!” You shouted as your heart completely shattered into a thousand pieces. You leaned against his trunk, sobs racking through your body, pain erupting through your entire body. 

Arthur didn’t turn around, not even to look around at your ruined state at the foot of his bed. 

You had to get out of this camp, away from this gang. The members of the camp already began their gossip, a few sneaking glances at you. Their gossip was loud, bouncing off your skull, every rumor suffocating you. 

You stood up quickly, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, their judging eyes piercing through you. You rummaged through your things from Arthur’s tent, grabbing only your essential items. You took the blanket off of his bed and made a makeshift sack out of it, tying all your things in it. You took one last look at your family, they might not even be here when you left but that was a chance you were willing to take. You were willing to go it alone for awhile if it meant things would cool down. 

You rushed to your mare, you hopped on her and stormed away, through the thicket. You heard someone shout your name but you didn’t look back, leaving behind everything you had ever known. 

The sun was beginning to set in the western sky, so you rode towards it, feeling like you were untouchable yet breakable all at the same time. Like a pound of bricks couldn’t hurt you, but a light feather could easily. You were like a bomb, one wrong move and everything could come shattering down.

The cool air was freeing, you only slowed for your horse to breathe, though she adored the run. When you began thinking clearer, it had been too far to turn back. It was completely dark out now, it would be foolish to continue riding. 

You found a nice spot on a cliff's edge, hidden by a thicket of trees. It was your home for the night, not perfect but it would do. You unrolled your blanket and set it down on the stone. The cliff overlooked all of the Heartlands it seemed. The sky was a brilliant blue, with speckles of diamonds sewn in, weaved throughout. 

Arthur was likely looking at the same sky, you wondered if he was thinking of the same things. You wondered if he was looking for you, waiting for you to come home to him. 

You loved Arthur, you did, you loved him since the day you met him. You didn’t want to fight with him, ever. 

Maybe you would’ve warned the young girl you once were if you had gotten the chance, but there was no turning back now. 

Surprisingly, the night brought you peace, a stark contrast to the heat that burned you during the day. 

You wondered if this was the final straw with Arthur, if you had fucked things up too badly. Mary Linton was no rival, you knew Arthur would never do such a thing. It hurt to remember what you said to him, to the man you loved so dearly. Vicious words cutting so deep, that you were even surprised they had come from your mouth. 

You were both to blame. Your hearts no longer beating in sync, a riff in between you. A stranger in your own bed. 

“ _ I never want to see you ever again!” _

The last thing you said to him. You hadn’t even meant it. You wondered if the universe would play some cruel trick on you for saying such an awful thing. 

Sleep came rather peacefully, drifting away while you thought of everything you should have done differently. 

The night sky twinkled, Arthur stared at it from the edge of his bed. Regretting his actions during the day, he couldn’t sleep. If only he had just told you that Mary needed his help, instead of hiding it. No one knew where you went and he was worried sick. Arthur wondered if this was it, after all the verbal cyanide, the brutal end to a sad story. 

He hoped it wasn’t. 

•••

Three weeks passed, since you had taken a break from the gang. A well needed break, that was for sure. You no longer hated the thought of Arthur, instead you missed him, wondering how you could be so blind. You craved Arthur’s touch, for him to hold you, for the first time in what felt like years. 

When you would return, you would apologize for everything that you had done, you would make it up to him. Everything would go back to normal.

No one bothered you as you lived off the land, you had been to Valentine only once. You prayed no one would be in town while you were there, luckily no one was. You had even gone as far as to scope out Horeshoe Overlook, it was still thriving, you could see almost everyone through your binoculars. You even caught a glimpse of Arthur, he tried to hide his distress but you could tell something was troubling him. Arthur was talking with Dutch, Dutch looking nearly as distressed as him. After a few moments, you decided to leave before anyone came snooping around. 

That was a week ago, you were going to return to camp in a day. Uneasiness grew on you throughout the night, you wondered if Arthur would ever take you back.

At night, you watched the sky again, it was clear again, not a cloud in all of it’s endlessness. You ate your supper for the last time in your small home, it had become rather nice. You bought a tent from Valentine and even found some books to go along with it. 

Your expedition into the wilderness left you with a lot of time to think, but tonight your mind wouldn’t muster a single thought. Like all your thoughts had suddenly vanished.

Sleep didn’t come quite as easily, your body not allowing yourself to drift into the realm of sleep. Though your body felt heavy with worry, you felt nearly weightlessness, like you were drifting on a cloud, above everything. 

As you stared into the black sky, you heard a snap behind you. You immediately reached for your gun, on high alert. Your fingers trailing over the trigger. Anyone who dared mess with you would get a face full of lead. 

Another crunch. This was no animal, animals were not that quiet. 

“Who’s there?” You called out, your voice rising above the trees. 

A third snap, you turned immediately to where you heard it, aiming your gun towards the thicket. 

A man with a wolfish grin stepped out, looking at you like you were a piece of meat. 

“What’s a little lady like yourself doing out here all alone?” The man inched closer to you, taking slow steps. The shadows casted on the man, making him look unnatural, almost like a monster. 

“Another step and I’ll blow your fucking head off,” You barked, aiming your gun at his head.

A second man stepped out from behind you, you swiveled around to face him, the first man pulled out his own gun and aimed it at the back of your head, you felt the cool metal on your head. You narrowed your eyes at the second man, your veins growing hot. 

You thought for a moment, weighing your options.

Almost instantly, you elbowed the man behind you, knocking his gun out of his hand, before the second man could react, you shot him in the face, he fell to the ground in a gorey mess. 

“Oh, you little bitch!” The first man shouted, delirious and enraged. He tackled you, right as you were turning to face him. The man pinned you to the forest floor, your mind was being taken over by the survival instinct. He punched you directly in the face, the force of it making you see stars, you kicked out your legs, staggering him for a moment so you could throw a punch, right in the nose, his nose cracked underneath your knuckles. The man fell off of you, his nose spewing blood, the bone in a crooked shape. 

He cradled his nose with one hand, the other scrambling for his gun that had been knocked out of his hand. Your mind was fuzzy, you got up as quickly as you could, your face aching. 

The man reached for his gun, you aimed your own, on the ground he aimed at you and fired. You fired your own gun, both bullets seemingly moving in slow motion as they passed each other. The gunshot was loud, nearly deafening. The man was dead, the bullet went straight through his head.

You almost didn’t feel the bullet until seconds later. Pain erupted in your abdomen, you felt the slick blood pool out of you, darkening your blouse. 

The bullet tore through your flesh with every step you took, you rushed to your horse, wincing. Blood got all over her silky coat, like an abstract painting. You set off back to camp, through the forest and deserts of the Heartlands. 

Pain continued to develop in your stomach, your mind started going fuzzy. The air whipped around you, as you rode hard back to camp. Every jolt shot pain in your stomach. The only thing you could think about was reaching camp, being home finally. 

Black spots began clouding your vision, the terrain slowly becoming more and more familiar. You felt weak, like all your limbs were ten times heavier. Blood continued to pool out of you, a slow, but steady stream. 

You leaned against your mare’s head, your own head too heavy to keep up. She was a pretty horse, strong and loyal. 

Why had you been so foolish to leave camp? Why had you been so foolish to be horrible to Arthur? Where did it all go wrong? 

You regretted a thousand things it seemed. A thousand things you would never get to see, it seemed. Repairing your marriage with Arthur, owning a small farm with him when things cooled down, having a little girl and a little boy that looked just like him, growing old with Arthur, simple things. You would miss it all.

You could barely see now, your mind slowly going blank. Your limbs no longer feeling attached to your body. You could just barely make out Horseshoe Overlook in front of you, the lights dim and shapeless.

This was death, it seemed so distant and so close all at the same time. Peaceful and painful. You let your eyes close for the final time, just as you reached the outskirts of the camp. 

You slowly slipped off your horse, into the grassy ground. 

This was death. You had gotten your wish. 

•••

Arthur heard a scream from the other side of camp, immediately shooting up from his bed. It sounded like one of the women. The other men came rushing to that side of camp, Arthur grabbing his own gun and dragging himself out of bed. 

A large group gathered by something on the ground, it was silent, no one saying anything. The entire group turned to Arthur, splitting to make a path for him.

You were on the ground, bloody, and lifeless. Arthur’s eyes widened as he kneeled next to you. He could barely believe what he was seeing. 

“No, no, no, no. Wake up, come on darlin’, wake up,” Arthur shook his head, grabbing your limp hand. At first, he was sure you would wake up. 

“God damnit, wake up,” Arthur said louder, shaking you. Anger, grief and disbelief in his voice. 

“She’s not waking up, Arthur,” Susan said from behind him, her voice breaking. He heard sobs from behind him, someone put a hand on his shoulder. 

It was silent, everyone holding their breath. They watched him with intent, making sure he would not crack. The crickets chirped in the distant, the air from his lungs being sucked out. 

Everything cruel he had ever said to you, everytime he had ever convinced himself he hated you, flooded his mind. Everything he did wrong, everything that went wrong. 

Arthur brushed the hair from your face, holding back his tears. The crowd dispersed from behind him, leaving him alone with you. He covered his mouth to stop the sobs that would escape his mouth otherwise. 

The anger and sadness that ripped through him, a sudden pit in his stomach that would never go away from now until he died. His entire world had been knocked out of place, thrown off track. 

His chest heaved with pain. He was never able to make it right with you, and that would live with him forever. Knowing you died thinking he hated you, it was unbearable. 

“You weren’t supposed to go like this,” Arthur whispered to you, he lightly held your face like you were fragile. 

Arthur slowly picked you up, holding your cold body in his strong arms. 

“We were supposed to make up, get out of this life, have a few kids, run a little farm,” Arthur poured his heart out to you, carrying you to the outskirts of camp. The patrons of camp bowed their heads as he passed them, a silent goodbye. 

“I’m so sorry,” Arthur said to you, clutching you close to him, his hands shaking. Blood getting all over his clothes, staining them, even when the blood went away he still could smell the stench of blood on them. A forever mark on his soul. 

Arthur buried you that night, on a little hill surrounded with flowers, overlooking the setting sun. A part of him died with you. He would remember the last words you had ever said to him, and how he had simply walked away. 

Arthur never forgave himself.   
  


•••


End file.
